It was evening and it was morning
Day One of our 10th mitzvah mission to Israel began officially with a dinner. But this dinner was unlike any other I have shared on our mission before. We drank a toast and sang happy birthday to a man in Rob Katz who inspired us, modeled generosity, and dared each of us to move beyond our comfort zones. This would have been his 54th, and he would have loved to share it, as he did each year for the past eight, in Israel. We shared our favorite memories and we dedicated ourselves to continuing his legacy.
After far too late a night for some of us who caught the Giants-Patriots game at a local bar, we were up early to daven on the beach and head for South Tel Aviv. There we met Felicia, a woman who came to Israel from Ghana twenty years ago. Today, she and one other person were caring for 45 preschoolers and babies, children of Sudanese refugees. They greeted us with easily offered hugs and the excitement of anticipating a treat that comes along with visitors. We carried some,and led others by the hand (and even chased after a few!) as we accompanied them several blocks and down busy streets to small park under a porous tent. The children burned energy playing, and suddenly the heavens opened. First we were drenched in the rain, and then came the hail! Small marbles of ice bounced all around us. Some of the kids held us tightly to stay warm; others ran from under the leaky tent to dance in the icy shower. Our bus finally came to the rescue, and we loaded the children onto their coach to return them to their over crowded playroom. Leaving them was the low point of the day for many of us. Several of us committed ourselves to a return visit next year.
As we rode to our next stop, we wrestled with the conflicting realities Israel faces in remembering its roots as a safe haven for those escaping persecution and in wanting to preserve a healthy economy, a strong defense, and the Jewish character of the state.
This conflict was further complicated by our visit to the Rabin Center, an exhibit dedicated to the life and death of Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin. Once again, we were bombarded by images of an Israeli society struggling to pursue peace while negotiating among its own citizens and with its neighbors for secure and defensible borders for all.
Dinner brought us to Zichron Yakov and the rabbi and leadership of Kehillat Ve’Ahavta, our new sister Masorti community. The warmth and comfort with one another followed quickly, and we began brainstorming ways by which our communities can build a lasting, supportive and mutually beneficial bond.
Until tomorrow, shalom to us all,
Rabbi Craig Scheff